


An Orcish phrase

by Flarenwrath



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Accidental Flirting, Language Barrier, M/M, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 17:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14981684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flarenwrath/pseuds/Flarenwrath
Summary: After the destruction of the Jade statue, Admiral Taylor and his men were taken to Kun Lai to recover. Unfortunately, they were not the only ones to receive the Pandaren's assistance...





	An Orcish phrase

Fighting was easy. Recovering was hard. 

And as Taylor’s youth left him behind, it was becoming harder and harder for him to spring back after each battle. Bruises that once healed in a matter of days now left black and green marks on his skin for weeks. Sore muscles from overuse in skirmishes that once only needed a good meal and a long rest now left his body aching for longer than it had any right to.

But if licking his wounds in private was hard, being forced to share a room with the Horde was impossible.

He didn’t remember when the Pandaren found him and his comrades or when they bandaged and treated his wounds, but he did remember the momentary feeling of panic and disgust at opening his eyes and seeing the Orc general stretched out on a sleeping mat not two feet away from him. Thankfully Sully and Mishka were already awake and quickly explained things to their Admiral before Taylor could make any rash decisions. 

Somehow, despite the explosion at the statue, the Pandaren were still welcoming to their uninvited guests. Still willing to give aid to all and expecting nothing in return… However, they still refused to take sides in the conflict and if Taylor and his men wanted to continue to their assistance, then they would have to make peace with the fact that injured Horde troops would be welcomed as well. 

Taylor may not have agreed with or liked it, but if it meant his men would be able to live to fight another day for the Alliance, then he would begrudgingly accept their terms.

Every few hours the pandaren woman who owned the inn would come cheerfully bounding up the stairs with some new snack or tea to offer her guests as well as to make sure their vitals were stable. He was thankful he had the foresight to learn some of the native language when they had made camp in the Jade Forest, as the woman didn’t seem to understand any Common he attempted to speak with her.

She didn’t seem to understand Orcish either, he noted as he side-eyed the orc general. The man had woken up not long after himself and seemed to have taken just as much damage as Taylor himself, since his chest was bound in white bandages that were flecked with dried blood. The man had tried to ask their hostess basic questions in Orcish before switching to clumsy Pandaren. Even with the orc’s hushed tone, he was still able to clearly make out the questions “How long?” and “My men?” 

A strange feeling washed over him at that and he averted his eyes from the Orc and his comrades. 

It was always a cold shock when little things like that reminded him how the Horde had more similarities with the Alliance than anyone would prefer.

Mishka and Sully did their best to help while away the time, telling Taylor of their strange and unbeleivable journey that started with a witch and ended with a bandicoon, but it did nothing to ease his discomfort at sharing a room with their sworn enemy. The orcish general seemed just as uncomfortable as he was, constantly shooting glances over his shoulder to them before turning back and muttering in that guttural Orcish to the forsaken woman and a goblin. 

The entire room exhaled a unanimous sigh of relief when the telltale sounds of pandaren feet bounded up the stairs once more, their host’s happily-chiming voice saying that it was meal time. What Taylor didn’t expect was that not just one but three of their hosts to come out of the stairwell, each with their arms full of bowls and plates of food. Taylor shot a glare over to the general as though it were somehow his fault for this ruckus as their host laid out the lavish meal in a large circle on the floor.

“Come-!” He said happily in her native tongue and waving a large paw at her guests. “Come join us-!”

Cautiously he, Sully, and Mishka moved to sit on the cushions the pandaren laid out for them, keeping a watchful eye on the orc and his people as they did the same. Thankfully the pandaren seemed to pick up on the tensions and were more than happy to sit as a buffer between the two groups.

“Meals are for all!” the woman said again as she gestured to the food. It was clear that she was trying to impart some form of wisdom on her guests, and wasn’t about to let a language barrier stop her. When neither of her guests made a move, she said something in Pandaren to what he assumed was her husband and son, and the three of them began filling their small plates with this and that of the various dishes. 

“I think they share their meals as a family,” Mishka said knowingly before following their lead and filling her plate with grilled vegetables and rice.

The orcish general grunted something to his companions as well and they seemed to have reached the same conclusion and they soon were picking out steamed buns and grilled fish for their plates. Unshockingly, the forsaken woman seemed content to sit and watch.

For a moment, things were fine and their odd dinner party was eating peacefully in one another’s company.

Then, when Taylor was reaching out for the last of the meat buns, his hand met the orc’s own.

“Watch it, pig!” Taylor snapped across the table in Common and jerked his hand back as though it had been burned. Sully quickly jumping to his Admiral’s defense, holding a utensil out and pointed at the members of the Horde as though it were a weapon. 

The orcish general may not have understood Common, but he definitely reacted to the word ‘pig.’ He raised his upper lip and flashed his sharp teeth in a snarl before growling something in response. Taylor could only assume it was offensive.

Their hostess let out a small huff at the disturbance and gave them both pleading looks before saying something in her native language he didn’t quite understand, although her tone was meant to be soothing. Silence fell over them for a long pause, before both sides relented to relax once more.

However, when Taylor saw the orc make for the last bun again, he couldn’t help but take another cheap shot. After years of serving on the battlefield against the Horde, he had picked up a few phrases in Orcish that had been commonly thrown at him across the battlefield and that he could only assume was some kind of curse. He used one of them now, making sure to lock eyes with the Orc as he said it.

Almost immediately the orc gave the desired reaction and dropped the bun in shock. What Taylor didn’t anticipate, was the way the orc’s jaw fell slack in shock and his cheeks quickly lit a bright and burning red. His two companions’ eyes widened and glanced awkwardly between Taylor and their general as though trying to parse some dramatic revelation.

Taylor picked up the dropped bun and put it on his plate, feeling a sense of pride at having defeated the orc even if it was over something so trivial.

Much later that night, when Taylor was standing out on the balcony of the little inn and listening to the wind, the orc general quietly slid the door open and let himself out. The two of them locked eyes again, Taylor’s sparking with challenge and the orc’s full of the same embarrassment that had not fully died down. He had muttered something in rushed Orcish, but all Taylor could really make out was the same phrase he had spat out earlier and the Orcish word ‘yes.’

They stood there in the night air, staring at one another and Taylor could feel a blush of his own creeping up his cheeks.

Taylor mentally cursed himself and the Light. What had he said?


End file.
